Page 46 of Just Past Two

Stephan didn’t notice her come in at first. Hard at work at his bench, turning a small piece she couldn’t really see over a glowing flame, he wore tinted safety goggles and a look of pure concentration. The room was a mixture of temperatures: cold winter air poured through the open windows, but the air closer to the tables was warm, and Stephan wore short sleeves. Not far from where he was sitting, a glassblowing oven flamed in the darkness, casting an eerie red light into the room and blasting heat in a very small area.

Her movement made him look up, and he smiled. “Just give me a second to finish this.”

“Take your time.” Abby took her own time looking at him. There was no harm in looking, after all, especially when the subject of her gaze was absolutely gorgeous. Sam had been encouraging her to set her guilt aside about these feelings, and maybe she could. Looking wasn’t touching. It was harmless. Eventually, he stopped his work and set the piece he was crafting aside.

Stephan turned off the torch, allowing him to push his safety goggles up into his hair. A faint sooty smudge marred his cheek, and she had to put her hands in her pockets to resist the urge to reach up and smooth it away. “Have you ever been inside a glassblowing studio?” he asked.

“Nope.” She glanced around, which was safer than getting caught looking into his beautiful eyes. “Reminds me a lot of the pottery studio. Just with more fire.”

Stephan grinned, and she caught his gaze. That was a mistake: he looked at her like she was the only woman in the universe. Sam could do that, too, make the world dissolve around them. She steadied herself against a wave of dizziness. Damn, he was handsome.

He pulled off his gloves. “You can hang up your coat over here.”

Abby hung her jacket on the coat hook, then her sweater as well, since it was really warm in the studio. She was left in a cotton T-shirt and jeans.

“Natural fibers, just like I said.” He smiled approvingly.

There was no real reason to feel proud, since all she’d done was literally follow the instructions in his text from yesterday, but his approval settled on her like a balm.

“I can do what I’m told,” she said. Once the words were out of her mouth, she gasped. “I can’t believe I just said that.” She covered her eyes as they both started laughing. At least it broke some of the tension.

“It’s okay.” Stephan beckoned her closer. “I knew what you meant. Come on.”

His hand burned hot through the thin fabric of her shirt as he touched the small of her back. He was too close, too intimate, suffocating her with his presence. This could easily be a platonic touch; his hand was closer to the middle of her back than the curve of her ass, but that small point of contact provided a constant distraction as he guided her through the stations. She forced herself to focus as he explained the types of tools, the difference between glassblowing and lamp work, then showed her the piece he was working on, a small curlicue for what would become a larger showpiece.

The oven was last, blazing heat forward out of the glory hole—which would never not be a funny word—and washing over her like it wasn’t the middle of winter outside.

“I’m blowing a piece next.” Stephan showed her the equipment he had set out for the task. “You want to watch?”

“Of course.”

He smiled, warm and inviting, and Abby tried to ignore the rush of arousal. Moving away from him helped. Leaning back against the counter helped as well, as the cold steel pressed against her arms. God, why was it so fucking hot in here? It was freezing next to the door, but the heat from the oven pressed against her like a physical force. Stephan’s hair was damp, a few curls wet against his forehead, and it looked…really fucking sexy.

Shit.

Trying to set her ridiculous hormones aside, she focused on Stephan’s work. It was easy to become mesmerized. She watched in wordless, rapt enthrallment as he shaped the glass, spinning it in the flames in the oven, removing it, adding additional embellishments, eventually blowing it into a shape through a steel pipe. Watching someone do something they were really good at was its own kind of erotic.

Eventually, Stephan broke the piece away from its support, hitting hard enough that it seemed like the glass must shatter, but instead it separated perfectly. He set the piece to cool, so close that she could, if she wanted, reach out and touch it.

Stephan smiled at her. “Don’t touch it.”

He meant the piece, but he might as well have been talking to her about himself. “I won’t touch it. I’m not an idiot.” She tucked her hands into her jeans pockets.

“Sometimes it’s tempting. Looking like it does right now.”

She side-eyed his physique, attractive in the casual, beat-up clothes he was currently wearing, probably irresistible in a suit. “Yeah.”

Stephan sat down on a stool next to her. “You ever think about trying it?”

With her attention split as it was, she had to pause to catch his meaning. “Glassblowing?”

His grin widened. “Yeah, glassblowing.”

“I don’t know. I like pottery. This is gorgeous, but I’m not sure I could create anything like that.”

“Nobody does, at first. I have a whole shelf of terrible first drafts of things, and those are just the ones I kept instead of smashing and melting down.” His smile invited her in, welcoming her. “You know, Jo is really hoping you’ll go climbing with her.”

Suddenly shy under his gaze, Abby ran a hand through her hair. “It seems like it could be fun. You ever do it?”